


Tequila and Rituals Don't Mix Afterall

by maryann234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Ritual Sex, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:56:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22627270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryann234/pseuds/maryann234
Summary: Hermione Granger wants to become a sorceress. So she alters and recreates a tantric ritual meant to find the right partner to assist her.Dosed with a heavy amount of tequila, she lands in the study of the wizard who is her magical equal, ready to seduce her way into her new powers.Virgins really shouldn't go about seducing Dark Wizards.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Voldemort
Comments: 19
Kudos: 287





	Tequila and Rituals Don't Mix Afterall

**Author's Note:**

> This is another work which is inspired from reading other on AAO. Any similarities are not intentional - I don't even remember when I started writing this.  
It is unfinished as well ( Do you see the pattern?) 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The room was very warm, a bright fire lit in the hearth. Shelves of books encased the room, and a thick rug insulated the floor. 

It was an office off of the bedroom, and connected to a hallway through a foyer. 

He sat in the wingback chair clad in a towel, his hair still wet. His long legs were stretched out toward the fire, and he stoically enjoyed the heat on the bottom of his feet, and his bare chest. 

Relaxed after a bath, he let his mind blank, relishing in the sensation of being warm and alone. 

And then suddenly she appeared before him. 

If he hadn't set the wards himself, he would swear she had just apparated in. 

Wild curly wisps escaped from her fine hair knot, and she was adorned only in a fine dress, one similar to what he had seen other pureblood women wear around their husbands when he surprised them with a visit. 

Out of the home, pureblood women always wear their robes. She wore no robes. 

Blue sparks ran up and down her body, but were diminishing even as he watched. Her neck and shoulders looked so fragile.

He straightened silently, taking in her loose unprotected stance, and the way she swayed where she stood. In one hand she had curled her finger around the neck of a bottle. Tequila. 

“I found you!” She slurred, her eyes unfocused. Unsteadily she came around the front of the desk. Her dress was cut well, hinting at a bosom, but displaying her feminine form to it’s best advantage. 

She wore no jewelry or glamour. No makeup and no pretense. Everything about her was unguarded due to her inebriation. 

Intrigued he crossed one leg over the other, and adopted an unconcerned pose. Never mind that his magic and his body, which hadn’t been aroused in years, were suddenly at full attention. 

His elbow rested on the arm next to his whisky tumbler, and he leaned into his hand to observe her. 

“Did you?” He answered lightly. 

“Yes!” And she gave a him a shocked look, and then squinted. “You are handsome though. How did you get a nose?”

His smile became condescending. “Why do you suppose I didn’t have one?” 

She touched her own nose, then looked at her hands and stumbled. Then as if she remembered something she straightened. “Never mind that. I came here, with a purpose!” 

She said the last triumphantly, and he straightened up, placing his feet on the floor. 

He arched a brow. “Oh?” 

“Oh yes. Don’t move.” 

And suddenly he couldn’t, his hands, arms, and legs frozen in place.

His magic pushed out, looking for a curse or hex, but found only pure magic. Angry, he snapped his gaze back to her, only to freeze, his anger suddenly dissipating. 

Her back was turned to him, and her hands were taking pins out of her hair. Nonplussed, as a pureblood female would never do so in front of another man, he watched with fascination as her hair slowly escaped its confines. 

Watching a woman take down her hair had been a fantasy since he was a boy, and since he was not married, it was out of his reach. Whores were professionals, but never once took a man completely naked, nor her hair undone. Now, now he watched every pin drop and scatter on the floor, and every loose curl spring to life. 

She shook her head, and the loose curls tumbled down to waist level. 

Curls in shades of blonde, brown, and cinnamon with a dash of nutmeg. Forgetting he couldn’t move, he watched transfixed as she slowly turned around and smiled giddily. 

“What-” He choked, and tried to reach for her hair. 

His hand didn’t budge from it’s spot.

“I’m not done yet, dark one.” She murmured coquettishly, before tipping her head back, letting her hair fall in a sweep to her waist. 

She took the mass and held it away from her neck to unveil her zipper. From its place by her neck, her zipper began to slowly come undone. 

Still not sure what was happening but supremely unconcerned, he watched hungrily as her zipper revealed her white slip, and stockings with garters. 

Thin straps held her modesty in check and her bottom half was covered by silk shorts. Stockings attached to straps and disappeared under her shorts.

The dress fell to her feet, and she turned to face him in less clothing than he had ever seen on a woman.

His eyes blazed as he took her in under the light of the hearth; the flush from her drink had covered her from head to toe, and her breasts were outlined by the nearly sheer material. 

The cold had distinctly outlined her nipples, and sent gooseflesh up her thighs which trembled. Her eyes looked at him unguarded and still not quite focused. 

There was a dull roar in his ears. 

“Come here. I wish to touch you.” He spoke commandingly. Blinking twice she paused.

“I suppose after hearing his voice for years I would have a voice kink.” She muttered. 

Slowly she did as he bade her, stepping forward slowly until she was just before him, teasing him. The witch ran her fingers up and down her thighs, across her waist, and then up to cup her own breasts as her circle completed. 

“Lean forward and kiss me, witch.” His voice stern, his face fixed, and yet his eyes were bright on her body. 

Then she came forward into the V of his legs. There was a pause, before she climbed on his lap and straddled him. 

Carefully she pressed herself right against his straining erection, only the towel and some undergarments between them. 

His breathing took a turn for the worse. 

Her hands were on his chest, smoothing the muscles from his stomach up to his shoulders. A light scent clung to her skin, delighting him. 

Her chest was right in front of him, the soft swells teasing him with only a glimpse. The soft skin unveiled was almost too much, her bare shoulders and clavicle tempting to touch. It was her magic however which made him almost groan. 

Her magic was pure, and very powerful, like an oil well waiting to be tapped. This woman had so much magic in her, it was a wonder she had not been burned inside out. 

The contrast of the light shy touches with the deep well of pure magic made him groan, his eyes fixed on her lips. 

And then she kissed him, softly pressing her lips on his. Pausing, she pulled away for a brief second, locking eyes with him, before leaning forward once more to lick at his lip. 

He gave in when she suckled it, and it took a lot of willpower to stop himself from taking control back from her. A small groan escaped her throat and she started kissing him with more fervor. 

His whole body jolted however when her magic caressed his body, and he let out a noise. 

Her hips were moving on their own, pressing up against him with delightful pressure and friction. 

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” He murmured against her throat. She was kissing and sucking on his, and both were breathing heavily. “Do you not fear Lord Voldemort?” 

But she was still drunk, and she bit him in answer. He growled and she shivered, letting out a moan as she ground her hips against him fervently.

A hand reached between them, stroking the length of him. Gods a woman hadn’t touched him in years, and never a virgin. Why he was convinced she was eluded him, but with magic that pure it must be so.

His head leaned back against the chair unconsciously, as he reveled in the sensation of a small tight grip from a woman. 

She chuckled, and then slipped slowly off of him, the sound of silk tantalizing. Opening his eyes, he found her kneeling before him. His pulse jumped several notches. 

An ancient language spilled from her lips, sounded like a branch of Sumerian to his ears, as she slowly took the towel off his hips, baring him completely. 

Her hands arranged his thighs wider, so she could easily fit between, and slip a hand to access his manhood. One hand held him firmly, and the other pulled her hair away from her face. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes from her if he wanted, never mind react to the fact that a small woman had him under her thrall. 

She put her face close to him and breathed in, giving her hand an experimental twist. 

Slowly she played with the tip, staring intently as she watched for his reactions. Then she began a small pumping motion, loving the way she tore a moan from him. 

Slowly she stood, keeping her hand moving, but she bent forward over him once more kissing his forehead and murmuring a few more words in ancient Sumerian. 

“You are going to come three times tonight.” She murmured huskily. “Once by my hand, once by my lips, and last in my womb.” His mind wrapped around her words, even as his gaze fixed on her lips. 

Her hand twisted the right way, and his mind went blank for a few strokes. 

“You are using me to take your maidenhead. By twisting An Yuuki's ritual, combining it with the equinox, and adding a dash of Solomon’s principle.” His eyes went half mast, even as he sounded impressed. 

Normal rituals included bloodletting other magical sources, such as a Centaur or five. She was taking an old fertility ritual, and adding in another ritual which increases one’s internal power. 

With her level of power, the combination of her virgin's blood and equinox would be enough to redirect that fertility magic into her magical core - elevating her magical power to the next level. 

The complexity of this ritual, the calculations involved - this witch was not an ordinary witch.

His words made her eyes darken, a shudder going down her spine. Her hand gave him a sharper tug as a reward, and her speed increased causing him to gasp. 

“I knew you would get it.” She murmured excitedly. Pressing a deep kiss on him, before nipping her way down his neck. “I knew you would understand, gods that arousing.” 

She bit the muscle between his shoulder and neck, causing a deep growl. 

“Are you certain you can handle me witch? Do you know what you play with in this ritual, to awaken me in this way?” She tilted her head and gazed down at him, smiling adorably. 

“No. That’s why I drank most of that bottle of tequila.”

Teasingly she used two hands to play with and then grab the straps of her silk top. He had already imagined ripping the two brittle straps off her form, but somehow the slow tease she did was better. 

She slipped first one and then both straps off her shoulders, revealing more of her breasts. Hungrily he watched as she teased her own nipples, holding her own breasts. 

Then she raised her arms and the top pooled to her hips. A shimmy later and she no longer wore a top. 

Silky curls draped provocatively over her shoulders, reaching toward her chest. Then she turned around, and he grit his teeth. A shimmy later and her slip was on the ground. 

Distracted by the movement of her hips, it took him a moment of appreciation before he realized what she wore underneath. 

Thin strips of cloth dipped between her curves, displaying smooth thighs and a firm ass.  _ Skin _ , so much skin! 

Her smooth round bottom flared to a beautiful waist he immediately wanted to grip in both hands. 

Her curls danced around her upper half, and more than anything he wanted to touch them, grip them. His balls became so firm he thought he would erupt right then and there. 

“Witch, touch me.  _ Now _ .” 

She turned, and he almost changed his mind. 

Her breasts were tight and bare. The cloth between her legs in the front was sheer lace. 

She knelt before him, rubbing her hands up his thighs before grabbing his cock firmly. Carefully she began to pump, and he was so damn close he could do naught but groan and watch. 

Leaning forward she rubbed her breasts on his knees, then licked her lips as she let his cock touch just the tip of a nipple as she pumped. 

He came  _ hard.  _ It spurted all over her breasts, her face, and her shoulders. She made a shocked face but, thank the bloody gods she kept pumping. His breathing was ragged, as if he had just run up all the stairs in Hogwarts. 

Feeling limp, he sagged letting his head fall back as his head cleared from his high. Merlin, how could he have ever given up desires of the flesh? 

A wet mouth captured the tip of his cock, and he felt a shock surge down his spine. Snapping his head upright, he found that she was still covered in his cum, but eying his now hardening cock like candy. 

Making eye contact, she once more opened her mouth and capture just the tip of his cock. She applied a light suction, her face lit with wonder. 

And then her magic gripped him by the balls. 

His manhood pretended it hadn’t been celibate for half his life and immediately sprung to life, with vengeance. 

“ _ Witch unhand me this instant.”  _ He commanded with all the dark power he possessed, his lust boiling beneath his skin like a potion. His magic flared uncontrollably and his thighs tensed as he fought the bonds. 

His entire being was consumed with the idea of picking this witch up and fucking her hard into the nearest wall. 

“Oh gods, your voice, your _ magic _ .” She said huskily, a shudder coming down her body. Her magic shuddered against him, causing shocks of pleasure. 

Gripping him firmly, she put a small hand down between her legs, and came back up with it glistening. 

Nostrils flaring, he tried once again to flare his magic against her bonds, to free himself and gorge on her body. 

With a hooded, mischievous look, she ran her tongue firmly up the length of him, and his balls tightened dangerously fast. 

“ _ Witch. _ ” He growled.

She hummed in response and let her magic run up his chest and caress his magical core. 

“You say you will make me come three times tonight. I will make you come before me.” He snarled as she put a warm hand around his cock once more, engulfing the head entirely and sucking it as she pulled her head up. 

“You won’t.” She said simply. “Because, tequila.”

And he understood. The alcohol would dull her senses, make her brave, reduce her pain, and give her an edge over him. Clever.

And she went to her task in earnest, her mouth doing its best to suck the life out of him. Her free hand came up and began to rub her own skin, and he realized that she was rubbing his cum into her skin, directly above her magical core. 

It was a remnant of old fertility rituals, a gesture often now seen in modern tantric rituals. The timing however, she meant to saturate herself with his seed orally, topically, and vaginally. 

Combined with her virgin blood, it would serve to both strengthen her magical core, increase her magic capacity, and keep her magic pure.

With that much power however, this woman would become a  _ sorceress _ . 

Which was perfect, because he was already a sorcerer. 

Now that she had revealed herself, he would claim her as  _ his.  _

Her moan startled him, and he realized he had been pushing against her magic suggestively with his own, stroking her passion. Her mouth moved vigorously on his cock, and when she lifted her gaze to his, her eyes were blue, full of magic. “ _ Give me your seed.”  _

Still pumping efficiently, she locked gazes as she pulled her mouth away, licked her lips, and then opened her mouth suggestively in front of his cock. 

Everything went white this time, as he came. Dimly he knew his vision was gone, but he could still somehow see as she held her mouth open and let him pour his life essence into her mouth and down her throat. 

Then there was another roaring in his ears as he finished, and she swallowed it all in one go, her pink tongue lapping him until he was finished. 

Still panting he watched as she laid on the carpet a moment, absently stroking her chest, right above her magical core. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be savoring a feeling. She lay on the carpet vertically, perfectly placed to give him a view of her wet cunt and heaving breasts. 

It was so damned erotic, like every fantasy brought to life. All those passive feelings of jealousy for men and their soft wives, the intimacy of domestic bliss- the display of it was over stimulating him now. 

His body felt electrified, as if all the feeling and sensation had come back at once. Somehow before, he had been living a half life with nothing but magic and knowledge, but now the world opened with possibility, a virtual floodgate of emotion, desires, and wants. Here was a way for him to not only hold magic and knowledge, but also relish in the feeling it brought. He could desire sexual contact, the exchange of knowledge and ideas, but also keep his firm grasp on power, on living, all wrapped up with this gorgeous creature full of burning power, and a good bottle of tequila. 

Her eyes opened, and she smiled genuinely at him. He was still gasping for air, but his hooded gaze was fixated directly, intensely on her. 

“I need water.” Sitting before him she conjured up a glass already full of water.  _ Wandlessly and silently.  _

She drank deeply, refilling the glass once for herself and emptying it once more. Then she stood before him, absently stoking the fireplace with a glance, before bringing the cup to his lips. 

“Drink.” 

He sniffed cautiously and then greedily swallowed the water. She allowed him two full glasses before she put it to the side and straddled his lap once more. 

This time there was nothing to prevent him from feeling how wet she was, as his erection came in direct contact with her core. Belatedly he noticed she was still flushed, and not just due to the drink. 

She hummed as she came closer to him, squeezing his thighs with her own. His hands and arms were still locked into placed, so she secured her position with hands on his shoulders. She made sure to squeeze them as she did so, absently lingering on the bulge of his arms. 

Leaning closer allowed him to lunge for her neck with his mouth, and he greedily began to kiss his way up to her mouth. Hermione met him eagerly, her arousal starting to get the best of her. The firelight became the perfect backdrop, casting a golden glow around them as they hungrily kissed. She was moaning into his mouth even as she ground herself against him suggestively, her hands gripping his hair desperately now. 

After a while she brought herself off his lips, and he continued to lick and suck her skin around her neck. She grabbed the bottle from the side table, and took a swig of tequila, and then another. He watched her from the side, his eyes calculating and bright as he continued to play with her neck. The witch was extremely sensitive on her neck, fairly melting against him when he bit her shoulder muscle. 

Her hand snuck down between them to grasp his cock, pumping him headily and rubbing him against her core. She was extremely wet, he could smell how aroused she was. The clock ticked from the mantle, as she slowly tried to place him at her entrance. 

“Lift up more.” He murmured, his breath heavy. “Do small shallow alternating thrusts, and make sure to occasionally hit your clitoris. The more pleasure you feel, the thicker your fluid and the better the lubrication, for both of us.” 

Hermione shuddered, somehow finding his deep commanding voice alarmingly attractive. He swooped down as she adjusted herself, latching onto her breast. Startled she looked down to find him gently lapping it, alternating small nips in between gentle suction. It felt, pretty good actually, and allowed her some distraction from the large object pushing slowly into her pussy. 

After a few minutes she was in a few inches and at her barrier. She pulled up slightly and then down again, unknowingly provoking her partner. She did it again and again, finding it easier, until he nipped her. 

“You are driving me crazy,” His voice was pained. “If you don’t breach soon, I am going to come just from that.” 

Hermione reflected that men really did become aroused easily and it was no wonder women always got the shit end of the deal. 

Picking up her courage, she finally thrust down hard, shrieking as he broke her hymen. Her nails dug into his shoulders hard, and a small sob escaped her as she put her forehead on his shoulder. 

He crooned to her softly, abruptly playing a comforting role as her insides tried to rob his dick of its seed, even while she shifted in pain. 

“Kiss me temptress.” He finally choked. “Kiss me and slowly rub yourself. It will get better, I promise.” 

Somehow her courage picked up, and he crooned to her as she slowly began to rock herself on him. It was heaven and hell. 

Within minutes she was slowly riding him, pulling herself up before swiftly going back down and grinding him thoroughly. He watched as her breathing slowly became heavier, and he matched his own to hers as she touched her clit. 

The tequila had helped dull her senses, but it had also given her a false measure of her own control. 

Her magic swirled against his as they kissed, her hands desperately gripping his hair and his shoulders as she furiously ground down on him. 

Her hips shifted and he could tell she had just found her own G-spot. 

“That’s it sweetheart, right there, just like that. I’m so close darling...Fuck me just like that.” He crooned to her, adjusting his breathing to show a higher state of arousal. 

Encouraged, she watched his face as she kept that angle, her own eyes steadily dropping in pleasure. His breathing hitched, and he purposefully tensed his thighs. “Come with me darling. That’s it, sweet sorceress.” 

Too far gone to notice his face, she rode him frantically, soft sobs coming out of her throat as she teetered on the edge. 

He roared, stiffening his thighs, and threw his dark magic against hers like a tidal wave. Hermione stiffened as she came, her body pulsing intensely around his. Then in a wave she collapsed against him, fighting to catch her breath. Her whole body was boneless, and she felt lightheaded. Wait, the ritual was done. She should feel - 

A dark chuckle sounded by her ear as his magic surrounded her completely. His hands came up her waist possessively, as his teeth bit down on her shoulder. 

Most importantly, he was still hard. 

“Virgins,” He whispered in a dangerous voice. “...should not seek to provoke experienced demons.” And he ground his hips _up _into her, and her insides clenched him reflexively, starting a shriek from her. She swiftly straightened up his lap, a look of horror on her face.  “No! No! You -”

“I didn’t come.” He said in satisfaction. “And we aren’t nearly finished yet, my temptress.” 


End file.
